


Smile Like You Mean It

by loammy_jean



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American AU, College AU, F/M, M/M, Terminal Illness (mentioned), basically just general anxiety tbh, no character death though i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loammy_jean/pseuds/loammy_jean
Summary: When Liam, an EMT, signs up to volunteer at the local animal shelter, he doesn't expect to get attached to the animals. Zayn doesn't expect to get attached, either, and when a split decision has to be made but Liam doesn't have the time to care for an animal, Zayn adopts him. Simultaneously, Zayn becomes the guardian of his younger sister Waliyha, and with college, work, and the necessary function of sleep, co-parenting has never been seen on such a grand scale. Featuring uncomfortable crushes, knee-jerk reactions, and too much thinking.Mostly a big a ball of fluff.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterzayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterzayn/gifts).



> I'd just like to thank the admin for not jumping down my throat for the sheer amount of times I missed deadlines. I wish I had been able to budget my time better, but I really did enjoy writing this fic! The final parts of this fic are unbeta'd and any mistakes are mine! I wrote this in a style I typically don't write in and apologize if that makes it somehow lacking (although I'm pretty excited about it). Thank you to Laura, for spending a ridiculous amount of time working on this with me. When I say you're the best, I'm not exaggerating. I owe you my life. To the admin, thank you for this opportunity and for your patience, and to you, reader: I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zayn gets a new coworker and would prefer to hear everything and not say a word

Usually, when Zayn comes into the clinic, it’s dead silent. He’s used to being there at 7:30, bright and early, and heading straight for the coffee pot. Mostly, the first half hour he’s in the building is spent nursing as many cups of black coffee as he can physically manage while sweeping the floor and cleaning the front windows, organizing paperwork and the like. He started at the local animal clinic four months ago, and the early hours had been nearly unbearable, but somehow, he had survived it. He only felt like he’d lost a small fraction of his soul back then. And now.

 _Now_ , it’s three PM and there’s paperwork _everywhere_ and the coffee in the pot is from this morning - and while he’s at it, the pot is nearly full. _Whose_ idea was it to make a full pot? Everybody knows Zayn is the only one who really drinks coffee. Amanda and Joy might have a cup or two when they come in, but not the entire fucking pot. Usually, when Joy starts the coffee, she only makes enough for three or so cups because she knows how this works. She doesn’t waste coffee. Which can only mean one thing.

Zayn glances up from the papers haphazardly stacked in front of him, and his eyes scan the lobby, which is practically overfilled with animals and handlers alike. It’s no use to look at them anyway - what he’s looking for won’t be in the lobby.

It’s not like he didn’t know they would have to do some rearranging. It’s summer, and people are taking their animals (read: dogs) out more, giving them more opportunity to get hurt. It’s also peak time for internships, just barely May and the start of the summer semester. Naturally, they would be hiring other people. He should have thought more into it, but honestly, it’s not exactly a structured job.

Some days, Zayn works the front desk. Other days, he feeds and bathes the animals. Other days, he’s a janitor, and sometimes - on extremely rare occasions - he’s a veterinary technician. He’s not qualified for that job, and it always makes him anxious, but there’s really only so much that can be done. More often than not, he dips between positions where he’s needed. He’s gotten so used to running around his entire shift without ever stopping to wonder how that would affect the payroll that he kind of thought it was just always going to be this way.

It’s been just him, Amanda, Joy, Charlie, and Nameera for so long that it never even crossed his mind that they might have to hire extra help for the summer. When he got the news that his summer classes could absolutely _not_ be night classes and that he would have to be on campus at eight AM four days a week, it was a hellacious change of pace, but Amanda worked with him and assured him they would just move him to second shift, no questions asked. Now that he’s here in the thick of it he sees that, yeah, of course they would have to hire somebody else to take over for him in the mornings, especially with all the money they’ve been shelling out in overtime.

That doesn’t make the realization any more welcome.

He shuffles the papers into a neat stack as another client comes to the counter, a frazzled woman with curly red hair and laugh lines and a huge fucking Leonberger on a leash. She explains that she just needs to bring Maurice in for his shots and a “check up,” and Zayn politely hands her a clipboard and a pen to fill out Maurice’s information. Wondering who the hell names their dog Maurice, he flashes her a bright smile, all teeth, like he reserves for Customer Service Zayn, and he gets back to work sifting through the absolute wreckage that is the front desk.

Zayn decides that he does not like second shift. There was never really any question about it, but now it’s final. As soon as this semester is over, he’s either switching back to first shift, or sending himself to an early grave.

The thing is, Zayn is adaptable, right? He’s pretty well-rounded, and he can take whatever is thrown at him for the most part. But he _hates_ to start the day off with everything out of sorts. _Technically_ , the voice in the back of his mind mutters, _it’s not the start of the day_. But it is. It’s the start of the work day, and he’s been here for seven minutes now and everything is _wrong_ _wrong wrong_ , and this is going to be his life for at least the next four months. He doesn’t think he can cope, honestly.

Zayn’s inner monologue is just a mantra of _wrong wrong wrong_ as he sorts and staples and paperclips and files and photocopies. His body _needs_ coffee. He has half a mind to dump out the old coffee in the ficus pot and fill it up with bottled water to get the pot started - god knows he won’t have time to dip into the back to properly wash and fill it. He almost wishes one of the animals would have an “accident” just so he can get away from the front desk.

Almost.

He’s been at work for eleven minutes when the door to the back opens and a man slightly older than Zayn leans inside to peer around the corner at him. “You’re Zayn?” He raises an eyebrow at the man with the short, brown hair and the panicked eyes and the rolled-up coat sleeves, and then the man’s eyes flick down to the tag over Zayn’s right breast pocket.

Zayn finally spares him as he opens his mouth and replies a quick, “Yeah.” Now Zayn’s mind is a running theme of _new guy new guy new guy_. He doesn’t even get a chance to analyze how attractive the man is - the new guy trips over his words and mangles some kind of apology explaining himself. His name is Liam, Zayn gathers, and he’s just gotten back from his break and he’s supposed to be training with Zayn today.

Training. With Zayn.

Zayn doesn’t even know how to train someone, he just… _does_ shit. He’s supposed to teach this guy how to do what? The front desk? The coffee pot? Most of the stuff at the front desk is pretty self-explanatory, it’s just agitating. What’s he supposed to do, teach Liam the virtue of patience?

“Uh, okay.” Zayn clears his throat and motions toward the chair beside him, which Zayn has literally never seen utilized before in his life. “Were you working with Nameera this morning?”

Liam nods, brown eyes flitting over the newly cleaned desk, and he swallows thickly. “Yeah, uh. Was there a mess when you came in?” Zayn barely has an opportunity to look back over at Liam before he says, “Nameera told me to just go to break and not worry about it, did she clean it up?”

Zayn laughs for the first time all day. “First lesson of the day: when Nameera _says_ she’s going to do something, that usually means she’s going to procrastinate it until someone else has to.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, Liam nods, and Zayn properly assesses him. He’s got to be - what, twenty-five? Zayn wonders what he has to be nervous about. At twenty-five, you’re supposed to have it all together and you’re supposed to handle crises with poise and ease. Then again, who is Zayn to talk? He’s twenty-one, and he almost had a mental breakdown no more than fifteen minutes ago because there wasn’t fresh coffee in the pot and there were humans in the lobby. He certainly has no room to judge.

“What time do you leave, Liam?” The words come out easy, and he thanks god for that. He’s obviously unnerved poor Liam, and they’ve only known each other for about two minutes now. He isn’t a particularly accommodating person, but he knows better than to create a hostile work environment. The last thing he needs is Liam thinking he _can’t_ ask questions and royally screwing something up.

“Seven.”

“Seven,” Zayn repeats.

The door swings open again, and Joy steps through the door. “Ringo?” she questions, looking up from her clipboard, tight black curls practically threatening sentience from all the moisture in the air.

She smiles pleasantly at the handler of a large black lab and invites them back with her, sending a thumbs up in Liam and Zayn’s general direction. Zayn can’t tell who it’s for, or if it means “good job” or “are you good?” Liam sends back a thumbs up of his own, and she nods, then promptly follows the handler through the door.

 _This could be worse_ , Zayn muses as Liam finally relaxes into his seat. For the most part, Liam seems to have an idea of what’s going on, even offering to take a few of the handlers himself, and Zayn just sits back and observes. Liam’s anxiety doesn’t reflect in his interactions with clients. He’s smooth and friendly and most of the things Zayn pretends to be when he’s behind the counter. It’s never occurred to Zayn that even people who seem to be genuinely nicer than he is might have to put on a front of their own in customer service situations. In the downtime, they talk about what they do outside of the clinic, and Zayn learns that Liam is an EMT and has started volunteering once a week although he’s almost always on call for his day job.

Zayn does his best to ask questions and negotiate his way out of having to answer them without being too obvious. He likes knowing what’s going on; he hates being known too well. Amanda and Joy don’t even really know him. They know his need for coffee, they know he’s trustworthy, they know his patterns and his work ethic and what he will and won’t give them flack over, but they don’t really _know_ him. Zayn likes it that way, if he’s completely honest. He doesn’t make friends naturally, and he finds most social interactions to be awkward and emotionally taxing.

When he signed up to be an assistant at the clinic, he didn’t intend to have the sudden requirement of smiling just so and enunciating his words in the right tone to keep from setting off a sixty year old woman with a walker, but here he is, an hour into his shift, doing just that.

It comes as a surprise when Liam is the one to break the easy silence between them and asks, “Do you ever feel like you’re pandering?”

Zayn lifts an eyebrow.

“You know.” Liam gesticulates vaguely and elaborates, “Like, when you’re dealing with people. Like you’re a caricature of yourself.”

He’s surprised when a laugh tumbles out of his own mouth. The waiting room is mostly empty now, and he doesn’t even lower his voice when he says, “You? You’re like… _made_ for customer service. You’re like the poster boy for traditional family values - morality and community and whatnot.” He doesn’t smile, but his eyes do as he adds, “What have you got to fake anyway?”

Snorting, Liam says, “And to think I was kicked out of theatre in high school. My acting skills must have refined themselves.” Zayn doesn’t even reply, just waits, and Liam rolls his eyes. “I mean, as an EMT, my job is to serve, yeah, but I don’t have to go out of my way to be overly nice to people all the time. I feel like I’m a nice person, but when you’re being nice to prevent conflict, it’s like playing a character. Maybe when I get my name tag I should have them put a different name on it. Like Rodger.”

“Rodger,” Zayn mutters under his breath. “No, I get what you mean. It just… seems easy for you.”

“Hardly. I’m used to just doing my own thing, and as long as I do my job well.” He shrugs. “That’s what counts. But at the desk, it’s like the whole job is to be somebody else.”

Zayn will never admit it out loud, but he gets a grim satisfaction out of assuming a different personality at work. It keeps him on his toes, keeps him in control of the situation. It probably makes him a pathological liar of sorts that he enjoys being able to pull it off successfully. He’d also be lying if he said he had fun doing it. He knows exactly what Liam means. It’s pandering, and it’s oddly degrading. People don’t want to be served by intelligent and capable equals who know what they’re doing; they want to be served by brainless, eternally happy canvases, with no real personality.

For a second, Zayn had been fooled. He’d let himself believe for a moment that maybe Liam _was_ just a canvas. He doesn’t even have to think about it much anymore, whether he likes Liam or not. He thinks Liam is his kind of people.

A screaming toddler throws her sippy cup on the tile floor, and apple juice splatters across the entryway. Zayn exchanges a look with Liam, one of those looking-into-the-camera-like-it’s- _The-Office_ types, before standing up from his seat. “Liam, have you seen where we keep the mop?”

***

Charlie finally comes in at five, and Joy dismisses Zayn (and Liam) to actually do something worth their time. Charlie flops down in the chair Zayn was just occupying, and Liam trails after Zayn, who is apparently his designated handler for the day. Zayn wants to mind, because like. Training fucking sucks. He’s not a teacher, not really. He’s not good at showing people exactly how to perform certain tasks. Discussing abstracts? Sure, he can talk about that all day long. But how the hell is he supposed to tell Liam how to groom a dog without oversimplifying or acting like it should be second nature to everyone?

“So what do you do?” Liam asks, nudging a food bowl inside one of the kennels. The cat stares back at him, skittish, but she doesn’t raise her hackles or hiss, just watches. Zayn remembers when she was brought in. Her fur is purely white now, but at the time, she was matted with dark brown and deep red blood, dried onto her in layers.

“In what situation, exactly?” Zayn’s voice is monotone while he adjusts the flea collar around the neck of the tabby in his lap. He knows that he probably sounds pissed off, but he doesn’t feel like he has to keep up a friendly facade with Liam to keep from being misunderstood. It’s the first time Zayn has really felt at ease with a coworker, and that in itself is pretty fucking stupid. Why is it _Liam_ , of all people, who’s been the first to properly disarm him?

As expected, Liam doesn’t react to his tone. “You know. When you’re not here.” Liam flicks a glance in his direction, and Zayn makes a point not to return the eye contact.

“I’m a student,” he shrugs. Then, for the sake of the illusion of transparency, he adds, “At NYU.”

“Fancy.” Zayn looks up to see Liam closing the door of the kennel, much more gently than is necessary. He has a feeling Liam doesn’t want to scare Clarence - Zayn will never forgive Amanda for naming the cat such a terrible name - and Zayn can’t help but smile feebly. When Liam looks in his direction, he waggles his eyebrows. “What is that, fifty grand a year?”

Zayn hums noncommittally. He has plenty of scholarships to go around, but not everybody does, and he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

Liam whistles low and opens the next kennel, this time a calico kitten that’s been at the shelter practically since he was born. He’s only recently switched to the tins of wet food - Zayn hopes he’ll transition to dry food soon since wet food is so bad for cats. He’s spent hours of his life in the very spot Liam’s in, nursing the tabby with a bottle. Zayn reckons by the time he can eat dry food someone will have adopted him already. Liam breaks Zayn’s train of thought by saying, “I can’t imagine taking on that kind of debt right now. I think I’d probably starve to death.” He chuckles at the end and doesn’t meet Zayn’s eyes, but somehow Zayn just _knows_ that Liam’s eyes are sparkling.

When Liam nudges the tin inside the kennel, the calico approaches and lightly nuzzles his finger with its nose. Zayn looks away, lips quirking upward in the corners.

Zayn realizes suddenly that he’s been holding the tabby in his lap for, like, at least a couple of minutes now, idly stroking her. Liam is such a distraction. A welcome one, but a distraction nonetheless. Zayn isn’t sure how many more distractions he can handle. Finally, he says, “What, being an EMT doesn’t pay?” He already knows the answer.

Liam snorts, but his eyes are bright as he stands to his feet and offers Zayn a hand. As Zayn accepts it and Liam lifts him to a standing position, he laughs, “Hardly. And being on-call all the time is a bitch, but.” Liam shrugs. “What’s next?”

Briefly, Zayn has forgotten the day’s agenda. He blinks back slowly and jerks a thumb at the old beagle on the second tier of kennels to his right. “Horace needs a bath.”

Liam cocks an eyebrow but merely rubs his hands together as if getting ready for a challenge. “Lead the way.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zayn has a crush and a no-longer-empty spare bedroom

Zayn likes to be kept on his toes. Really, he does. But some surprises are just  _ unnecessary _ . 

Like Jimmy flooding the _fucking_ shower basin again. It’s always him and the shower basin. It’s like he doesn’t know how to use a drain or how to clean one out or something because there’s no other earthly explanation for it. Zayn usually doesn’t get too worked up over other people’s idiocy, but it’s always him who has to clean it up, and if he never saw Jimmy again, it would be too soon. The worst part is that Jimmy never seems to understand that Zayn is mad at  him - he just keeps flouncing along, all apologies but with a chipper smile on his face by the time he leaves the conversation. 

Between annoying college students, droning professors, terrible clients, and  _ fucking Jimmy _ , Zayn might positively lose his shit. Being quiet has its pros and cons. In the pros, nobody knows what he’s thinking. In the cons, literally nobody ever knows what he’s thinking. It’s just as he’s picturing siccing Alfred - a particularly vicious poodle - on Jimmy that the door to the shower basin is slowly pushed open, and Zayn looks up, a sharp word ready on the tip of his tongue. Fortunately for Zayn and everybody else, it’s Liam.

His shoulders relax as Liam’s head pokes around the door. He doesn’t even ask if Zayn needs help, just smiles wearily and joins him, squatting down at his side. It’s not a fun job, and Liam isn’t even wearing rubber boots - actually, he’s wearing some decent looking sneakers, and Zayn feels a bit shit about it.

Liam never seems to complain about much of anything, just sucks it up and does whatever is needed of him. It’s admirable, really. Zayn feels almost guilty, comparing himself to Liam. He’s honestly probably more upset about this than he should be, and after all, it’s not like Jimmy does this shit on purpose. Even now that he’s feeling guilty, he’s glad Liam’s there. Liam puts him at ease, despite the fact that he rarely ever sees him. Liam wasn’t exaggerating when he said he was  _ always _ on-call. He usually works one day a week at the shelter, so really, Zayn’s only seen him about three times since that first day. He can’t help but like Liam, though. Something about him is so disarming it’s almost unsettling in itself. It also doesn’t hurt that Liam is a lot easier on the eyes than Jimmy. 

But Zayn doesn’t have, like, a  _ thing _ for Liam or anything like that. After all, Liam’s like twenty-five or something, and Zayn is  _ busy _ , and so is Liam, and he really doesn’t have the time to pursue anybody right now anyway, between school and work, and--

Okay, maybe Zayn has a little bit of a crush.

_ A crush _ , Zayn thinks, neck turning red as he pointedly doesn’t look at Liam. It sounds so juvenile and ridiculous. He hardly even knows Liam. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

But he does like him. And that’s just the fact of the matter - Liam is likable. He’s nice, helpful, and his own brand of intelligent. Not like most of the kids Zayn sees in his classes, with their noses shoved so high in the air they’d drown if it rained. Liam has a way of speaking that’s entrancing, just a little. He’s very careful not to mess things up and make Zayn’s life harder, and like. Most of the time, people just wreak havoc all around him like he’s not even there. It feels good to know that somebody makes a conscious effort to not ruin his day.

The shopvac is loud, and they fall into what is otherwise an easy silence. It’s comfortable, even if Zayn’s stomach turns a flip when Liam’s hands brush against his. Even if Pete the Rhodesian Ridgeback is silently judging Zayn for having no idea what it is he’s supposed to be doing with Liam  _ so freaking close _ . Stupid Liam with his stupid disarming character and warm eyes and considerate presence. Zayn doesn’t even have it in him to be bitter.

What is he going to do?

***

Professors have a certain way of making otherwise interesting material exceedingly boring.  _ Catch-22  _ by Joseph Heller is commonly referred to as one of the most compelling novels of the latter half of the 20th century. Zayn thinks he might break his own leg to get away from it. Professor Langley hardly lingers on the action and metaphor within the actual content. He doesn’t want to discuss the  _ reason _ the work is so prolific. He wants to talk about fucking  _ form _ , about paradox and style only. And yeah, Zayn likes to analyze style as much as the next guy, but Langley has been droning on and  _ on _ , and if Zayn hears the phrase “logical irrationality” one more time, his ears are going to fucking bleed.

If they could just touch on the topic of McCarthyism, for Christ’s sake. Talk about allegory, talk about the author’s influences and experiences and  _ what goes into creating a masterpiece _ . If it was all about phrasing, Zayn himself would have a best-seller by now. But form is nothing without content.

He’s going to have a fucking stroke, he thinks as a text from his sister Doniya sends vibrations through his text book. 

_ It’s Waliyha again _

Zayn rubs the spot just above his eyebrow and glances up at the thirty-something year old idiot at the front of the classroom before tapping back. With a sigh, he types out a response and waits (im)patiently for Doni’s response. He cracks his knuckles so loudly the girl in front of him turns around and side-eyes him for just a second, but she seems mostly startled, as if she didn’t realize he was there to begin with. Sounds about right. He feels something simmering beneath his skin most days lately, something chaotic and overwhelming and angry and hurt. It’s quiet, and it rarely rears its head enough to force him to break his composure, but when it’s Waliyha, it always becomes harder to keep it at bay.

Only a few more messages are swapped before Zayn stands quietly and packs his bag, exiting the room without attracting attention from even the people whose eyeline he crosses into. The only sound in the corridor is the door clicking shut behind him, and he takes the stairs two at a time while searching up bus routes and times.

A couple of phone calls, a trip to the grocery store, and half a cleaning spree later, there’s a knock at the door. At five PM on a Tuesday, Zayn becomes the guardian of a sixteen year old girl in need of a fresh start.

***

Every time Zayn sees Waliyha, he’s surprised at how  _ small  _ she is. She’s wiry and tall, with thick-framed glasses and a slump to her shoulders. She looks a lot calmer than she sounded on the phone, and he hopes she’s had time to really process what’s happening and realize this is a good thing, not necessarily a last resort. He frowns when he sees she’s only brought a suitcase and a backpack, but he supposes there’s only so much she could fit on the bus.

She’s quiet, and Zayn knows that she’s enough like him that she doesn’t want to talk about it. That conversation can happen another day, or in bits and pieces. In the meantime, Zayn shows her around his apartment, to what will now be her room. He’s been putting off getting a roommate for a while now - he was going to ask his best friend Louis to move in with him, but he and his boyfriend had gotten quite serious right around then and ended up dorming together before Zayn asked. He had been using the spare bedroom as a studio of sorts, put up white paneling on the walls to use the room as its own canvas. He’s taken down half the paneling and actually set up the bed the way it was when he moved in, put up curtains, borrowed a chest of drawers from Niall, and cleaned out the art supplies from the closet. It’s dimly lit, and the ceiling has a vaguely brown tint to it, as well as splatters of paint here and there.

When they enter the room, Louis looks up at Waliyha with a wide smile. His blue eyes sparkle, and he doesn’t even look like he’s sorry for her as he says, “Hey, kiddo! You still like purple, don’t ya?”

Waliyha arches an eyebrow as if to pull back from him, but instead, she drops her suitcase on the floor and sprints across the room to tackle Louis with a hug, nearly knocking him over before he laughs and returns the embrace.

Zayn glances at the half-opened comforter and sheet set that Louis brought. ( _ “Well, Fizzy isn’t ever gonna fuckin’ use it, so somebody who actually  _ loves _ me might as well _ ,” Louis said when Zayn asked why he just had one lying around. Zayn doesn’t ask a lot of questions anymore.) He glances back to his best friend and sister, watches Louis ruffle Waliyha’s hair and bites back a smile when Waliyha teases Louis about his height. “I’m taller than  _ you _ are now.”

Maybe Waliyha will adjust well after all. Zayn just hates to feel like this all might be just as much a burden as what she left home to get away from.

***

For the first week or two, Louis and his boyfriend Harry come and go from Zayn’s apartment as they please. Harry treats Waliyha to Waffle House and IHOP between seminars and shifts at the campus Starbucks, and Louis fills her up with greasy Chinese takeout and refrigerated Pizza Hut. It’s just fine with Zayn, honestly, because between class and work and cleaning and  _ whatever _ it is that he even does with his time anymore, Zayn doesn’t have nearly enough energy to keep her preoccupied. And that’s important. It’s summer, and he’d feel terrible if he just left her at the apartment all the time, waiting for him to come home, stuck inside her head. Liam is busy petting Pete to keep him calm while Zayn trims his nails when Zayn says, “How do you do it all? Like. Juggle being on call and volunteering and sleeping and whatnot? Do you ever take a second to breathe?”

Liam smiles warmly and scratches Pete right behind his ear, then replies, “I breathe when I’m here.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. He needs a cigarette.

“No, seriously,” Liam says, smile gone, eyes wide and honest. “I love animals, and it seems like more often than not, I get to work with you. And everything is calm, and I can have a few hours to feel like I’m really making a difference, you know?”

“You’re an EMT,” Zayn laughs. “You’re always ‘making a difference.’” He stops trimming Pete’s nails to make air quotes, which makes Liam smile again, if a bit sadly.

“Yeah, but. At least here, there are a lot fewer sad endings. My job - my  _ real _ job or whatever - it’s kind of soul-sucking. You feel the weight of every move you make, and every person you come into contact with… their life is in your hands, yeah? And you just have to live with it. If it all goes wrong, you just wonder what you could have done differently. But  _ here _ , I can just pet this  _ good boy _ \--” He grins when Pete side-eyes him, head in his lap. “--and watch you do all the hard work.”

Zayn snorts at that. Liam doesn’t like to keep things serious for long. Zayn can admire that, honestly. Sometimes he feels like everything in his head is serious enough as it is.

The longer they work that night, the more Zayn’s heart bursts with the need to say something, anything, to let it all out or to just scream at the top of his lungs. It’s not the time or place, and it’s just him and Liam there, and he would really hate to be the one to send Liam running from this job. But he sees how good Liam is with Pete, and it burns deep down in his soul. He knows Pete has an expiration date, just like the rest of them, and that it’s coming up sometime soon. Liam hasn’t been around long enough to see a euthanization, and Zayn hopes it stays that way, hopes Liam always comes in to see an empty kennel and assumes the best - adoption.

Liam tells Zayn stories in the downtime, while they switch out food and water bowls, while Zayn empties the coffee filter, while they shake their arms through the sleeves of their thin jackets and head outside for a final goodbye. 

Zayn wonders what goes on in Liam’s head sometimes. He tells so many stories it seems almost like he knows Liam inside out, but he doesn’t know Liam’s opinions, his goals, his desires. He doesn’t know the trivial things, like what his favorite game is, and he doesn’t know the big things, like if his parents are divorced. He thinks about Waliyha, about how much it can hurt to know someone so intimately you feel their pain as your own, and he wonders if he wants that with Liam or if he wants the awkward shuffle between platonic feelings and something else.

He remembers something he saw Louis’ nutjob boyfriend tweet once -  _ I think I think I think too much _ . That sounds about right. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zayn does the talking and the system is a bitch

“You should really quit,” Liam tells Zayn matter-of-factly as Zayn locks the front door for the night. He doesn’t have to look at Liam’s face to know he’s referring to the cigarette already hanging out of his mouth.

Zayn shrugs haphazardly, but lets out a startled laugh when he looks up to see Liam lighting a cigarette of his own, cupping his hand around the flame to keep it from blowing out. “I never took you for a hypocrite, Liam. I thought you were strong and noble and shit, but instead, you’re a filthy smoker.” Raising an eyebrow, he takes the unoffered lighter from Liam’s hand and lights his own. “You should know better than I do what these things’ll do to you.”

Liam smiles wearily, pocketing the lighter when Zayn returns it to him. Zayn lingers slightly in the silence and looks down at the asphalt of the parking lot, where it meets the old, white stripes marking parking spaces. It’s been three weeks since it happened when Zayn blurts out into the darkness: “My sixteen year old sister has been sleeping in my spare room because a bunch of fucking teenage girls keep telling her to kill herself.”

Liam’s posture stiffens slightly, and he leans against his silver Mazda, studying Zayn. Zayn doesn’t dare look at him, but he can feel the burn of his stare. Swallowing hard, he adds, “My mom thinks she’s safer here, in _New York fucking City_ , than she is at home. It’s scary shit, ya know?” His gaze finally flickers up to meet Liam’s steady expression. He shoves his hands into his pockets and laughs bitterly. “I used to get the shit kicked out of me on the regular after 9/11. And this whole - this whole political ordeal is just. It’s got things stirred up so bad sometimes I’m afraid to leave my house in the morning. But with her, it’s - it’s not even a Muslim thing or an Arab thing, it’s like they just _hate_ her for some reason.”

It’s rushed, and his face feels hot in the breeze as he watches Liam nod slowly, wordlessly.

“And I don’t know what to do.” The words are like vomit, just an endless stream that he can’t stop no matter how hard he tries to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t know how to tell her that it’ll be alright, because I don’t know if it will. She can’t even go on Instagram like a normal sixteen year old without someone sending her messages about what a slut she is or how ugly she is or how she should just _die_ , and like. I don’t even know how to protect _myself_ , much less her. Like, I still feel like a high schooler, and now she’s just _living_ with me, and I want her here, but I don’t know how to fix that shit. I don’t know how to make her feel like she has worth, and my parents are like. They fucking try, but it’s like. I just.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrow, and they’re always so fucking expressive, and now isn’t the time for this, but Zayn feels a pang right in the center of his chest, the feeling that comes with not being able to breathe. “Zayn, I’m - I’m really sorry, man,” he says slowly, shaking his head. “How long has she been here?”

His mouth is parched. “Three weeks,” he says, looking disapprovingly down at his cigarette, a third of it already turned to ash. “She’s like - she’s trying, she really is. I can tell, she gets up in the morning and puts on a smile and asks me what’s for breakfast. And I’m just so tired of trying to fake it and pretend everything is okay, too, because it’s helping her but internalizing that shit - it’s so fucking unhealthy, but I don’t wanna bog my friends down with it because they’re already doing so much to help as it is, and I just. Fuck, I just needed to _say_ it. I’m sorry.”

Liam physically recoils. “Why are you sorry? Don’t apologize for saying something. You’ve been fidgety lately - at least now I know why.”

It’s Zayn’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “I have?”

“Yeah, man. Do you think I look right through you or something?” His laugh is wry. “You think I don’t know you? We spend the majority of our time here alone together, it’s not like I don’t know you.” Zayn shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and Liam nods over his shoulder. “Let me drive you home, yeah?”

Zayn’s - well, he’s baffled, really. “Liam, you don’t have to--”

“I know that.” Liam’s eyes are kind. “Are you gonna smoke that cigarette, or are you gonna let it smoke itself? Because there’s no smoking in my car, so you’re gonna have to decide one way or the other.”

For the first time in a while, when Zayn laughs, he doesn’t feel like a fraud.

***

The day after Zayn’s mom calls to ask if Waliyha can start the school year in the city with him, Niall takes her out for back-to-school shopping. He doesn’t know where Niall got all the money to buy as much shit as they bring back to the apartment, but he knows his mom sure didn’t give them all of that. He’ll have to grill Niall about it later.

When they’re alone, Waliyha is quiet, and after about thirty minutes of silence and Waliyha reaching out to her phone and then pulling her hand away, Waliyha says, “I just want to be normal, ya know? I just want to be able to post a selfie on Instagram in a new outfit and get a couple of likes and a comment from Mom.”

“I know,” Zayn says softly. She’s deleted all her old social media accounts, and he heard from her conversations with Louis that she’s been thinking about making new ones with a new phone number so it’ll be easier to screen who sees her account at all in the first place. Zayn doesn’t know what would be worse - that backfiring, or her isolating herself from society because she feels like she can never have an online presence again.

Four weeks after she first arrived, Waliyha cries for the first time. For the first time in years, Zayn thinks he might cry, too.

***

“Really try and push Pete when you can,” Joy tells Zayn twenty minutes into a shift with Jimmy. “We can only keep him until Friday.” It occurs to Zayn not for the first time that nobody would do this to a human. Nobody would say, _Hey, sorry, tiny infant, but if nobody comes to adopt you within three months we’re gonna fucking murder you._ Zayn knows it isn’t Joy’s fault, can hear the gentleness in her tone every time they have to have these conversations. She hates it as much as he does. That might be the worst part, that it’s not her fault it’s like this. It’s not Amanda’s or Charlie’s or fucking Jimmy’s. It’s sad. That’s the problem with humanitarian-type work, with charity, with jobs that involve too many feelings and not enough money.

Zayn’s gotta stop thinking about so much sad shit, honestly. _Cookie cake. Louis falling off his skateboard. Dinosaurs covered in feathers instead of scales._

He reminds himself for the first time in a while that if he wants good things to come to him, he has to think positively. About an hour into Zayn’s shift Jimmy goes to the bathroom, and almost immediately, Liam covertly pops out of the back with Pete in his arms, checks that the coast is clear, and then releases Pete into the wild of the lobby. Naturally, Pete skitters straight to Zayn and jumps at his leg once to try and get into his lap. Zayn looks at Liam incredulously, and Liam shrugs as Zayn cautiously picks Pete up and holds him like a baby. “You looked like you could use a little cheering up,” Liam explains with a smile.

At the mention, Zayn remembers that the puppy snuggling into his collar will be euthanized by this time next week if somebody doesn’t take him. It’s like cold water running through his veins, until Zayn gets an idea.

“I guess you quite like Pete, then?”

Liam cocks his head slightly to the side then, but he’s quick to retort, “Of course, Zayn, I’d only bring you the best.” His smile is slightly silly as Zayn stands and passes Pete back to him over the desk.

Zayn just nods simply. “Amanda will have a stroke if she sees you brought him out here,” he says with a smile, twisted at the corners.

Shrugging, Liam hoists Pete so that he rests mostly on Liam’s shoulder, and Liam’s smile when Pete clings to his shirt is so pure Zayn might have to stab himself with a ballpoint pen to keep The Fond Face away. It’s been a long time since he’s been so reckless with his emotions, and he tries to remind himself that these types of things never go well. Liam is hardly sending any signals at all to identify himself as being interested in men, and any that he does can be easily explained through logic and the idea that maybe Liam is just _comfortable_ with him. And even if Liam liked dudes, that is no guarantee that Liam likes _Zayn_ , with his ratty Iron Maiden tee and scuffed Converse. Zayn has never felt their age gap more than he does now, because Liam is here with his perfect smile and his full-time job and kind eyes, and Zayn feels like just another empty college student scrambling to figure himself out in the least.

“You should go before Jimmy gets back,” Zayn says, clearing his throat and shuffling the paperwork on the desk to stack it into right angles. “He’s a sucker for an excuse to tattle if he thinks it’ll get him brownie points.” Zayn tries not to let his gaze linger on Pete. Pete, who in a few days’ time could very well cease to exist. It makes him queasy. He knows he won’t be able to stand it if they put Pete down. He has a hard time with these things in the first place, and certainly won’t be able to move past it after watching Liam play with Pete, watching Liam look at Pete like he’s the most precious thing that’s ever graced the planet. Zayn is going to make it his personal mission to find Pete a home.

***

Zayn isn’t actually sure when it clicks, but he’s on the phone with Niall when he feels the words tumbling out of his mouth. “D’you think Wali would like a dog?”

He doesn’t ask Waliyha about it, hopes it’ll be a sort of surprise. They were never allowed to have pets growing up, since his youngest sister Safaa is allergic to pet dander, and he thinks she’d enjoy having a dog around to keep her company while he’s gone. On the same token, even if she doesn’t really want a dog, he thinks it would be good for her to have a bit of responsibility if she’s going to be living with him. Instead of just sitting around and thinking all the time, she might be able to regain some sense of structure in her life. That was good for him when he moved away from home, made everything feel like it had a purpose and, incidentally, made him feel like he had one, too.

Mostly, Zayn can’t fathom having to look Liam in the eye and tell him that Pete has been euthanized because nobody would take him. Liam obviously _wants_ Pete, but is probably too busy to properly take care of him. And, well, between Zayn and Waliyha, they should be able to work out some kind of schedule to keep him fed and well cared for.

He doesn’t have a lot of cash to spread around, but when he gets to the shelter and tells Joy he wants to adopt Pete, she hands him a twenty dollar bill with all the signed paperwork and pats his hand. He tries not to look her in the eye for long. He knows she’s thinking about all the other animals she wishes they could have afforded to save before their time ran out. She’s barely 45 years old, but the lines around her eyes give her away, remind Zayn that, while he loves working with animals, he can’t keep doing this for much longer without feeling empty.

After a trip to PetSmart and an argument with the bus driver about whether he can bring Pete onto the bus, Zayn stumbles through the front door and drags the boxed kennel behind him with one hand. So far, Pete has mostly just wagged his tail and nudged Zayn’s collarbone when he jostled him too much, tucked up under Zayn’s other arm. When Zayn puts Pete on the floor, he skitters on the linoleum and trips over his own feet, and Zayn can’t help but smile as the puppy regains his footing and begins to slowly explore the apartment.

Pete is already house-broken, so all Zayn really has to do on that front is put down the puppy pads and make sure Pete knows where they are if he needs them. Soon, hopefully, they’ll get a schedule down for when to take him out.

Usually pretty docile, Pete gets a touch more energetic while exploring, and soon he’s a flash of brown fur and tiny thuds of skittering paws. When he’s done laying down pads, filling the food and water bowls, and assembling the kennel in the living room, he perches on the couch and just watches Pete.

After a little while, he decides he’s really got to get started on the paper that’s due on Monday, so he curls up against the arm of the sofa and waits for Louis and Harry to bring Waliyha home from whatever the hell it is they’re doing today. Harry has started to slowly integrate himself into becoming a fixture in Zayn’s house since Waliyha moved in, and Zayn _wants_ to say that he hates it and that Harry’s a big goof with too-long legs, too-long hair, too-cheesy humor. Secretly, he kind of likes him. Just a little bit.

By the time Pete comes back to him, Zayn has wound down enough that he lets Pete on the sofa and allows him to curl up in the bend of his knees, and Zayn wonders what to do now that he’s got Pete. Should he tell Liam? Should he text him? Was it presumptuous of him to think that Liam would want Pete now that he’s technically Zayn’s?

Zayn turns his brain off for a while and falls asleep with Pete to the sound of _Family Guy_.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Liam doesn't have enough time in the day to sleep and Zayn isn't the only one with a crush

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 2:34 PM] _Do u know if they sold pete_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 2:58 PM] _Zayn_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 3:11 PM] _Pete’s missing n Amanda says she doesnt know what happened to him_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 3:11 PM] _That’s gotta be good right_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 3:12 PM] _Amanda would know if they put him down right_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 3:39 PM] _Zayn_

[Incoming message from **Liam Payne** , 3:42 PM] _R u okay?_

By the time Zayn sees the messages, he thinks Liam has probably had a fucking stroke, and it’s a little morbid that he smiles as he reads them. Then he’s sucked back into the chaos of the moment. He and Niall are at Cascades High School, trying to figure out how the fuck you enroll a student into the public school system. Zayn’s been more than a little overwhelmed, and it’s not like Niall knows a goddamn thing about being a parent either, but at least Niall is calm about it. Snapback on backwards, chest hair on full display from the low collar of his tank top, Niall could easily _be_ a high school student, so it’s no surprise that he feels right at home there.

They’ve just come out of the principal’s office for the third time that day with - _finally_ \- all the right forms signed and multiple letters from Zayn’s mom and dad and their lawyer. Zayn is now Waliyha’s temporary guardian - it’s _real,_ like that’s what he _is_ legally - and the first person they’re supposed to call in the event of an emergency. It’s almost nauseating in a way, but Wali looks happy as they wade through the masses, and that’s all that matters.

Zayn is supposed to be at work right now as it is and had to call Amanda around noon to tell her he would be late for his shift, citing the fact that it’s a three hour drive to get to Liberty just to get the paperwork he suddenly was notified he would need. It didn’t even occur to Zayn to tell Liam he’d be late. Despite _knowing_ Zayn is late to work, Niall is happily nattering on to Waliyha about how they should stop for tater tots, and Zayn has half a mind to leave them in the dust. He really doesn’t have the patience at that very moment.

He fires back a “talk later” text to Liam and tries to navigate the crowd to the best of his ability without losing Waliyha to the influx of high schoolers that squeeze past them at the double doors.

The world is chaos, and Zayn feels like he’s aflame in the midst of it all.

***

“You’re fucking kidding,” Liam blurts out, eyes wide, before he realizes he is, in fact, in the middle of the lobby and on the clock. Zayn can’t help but smile when Liam blushes at his own behavior and casts an anxious glance around the room at the patrons, some of whom are glaring in Liam’s direction and some of whom have no idea Liam even exists. Liam lowers his voice and leans against the desk. “Somebody got Pete? You got somebody to take him?”

Zayn smiles softly. “Yeah, they came in last night, said they wanted a puppy and asked specifically for a Rhodesian Ridgeback, and we shipped him right off to his new happy home.”

Liam’s smile falters just a little, and Zayn’s heart twitches or spasms or pulls or something. “Well, that’s good,” Liam says, and he looks away.

Zayn feels like a jackass. He hopes the surprise will be worth the wait.

After an awkward pause, Liam says, “Coffee?” He’s already pushing back his chair to reach the coffee pot, and Zayn just nods his assent as he pulls out his phone.

[Outgoing message to **Waliyha** , 5:14 PM] _Send me a picture of you and Pete_

“So, uh, I guess. I guess he’s happy, then?” Liam says, pouring the styrofoam cup about halfway full.

Less than thirty seconds later, Zayn’s phone vibrates.

[Incoming message from **Waliyha** , 5:15 PM] _But he stinks_

Zayn barely contains the urge to roll his eyes and tries his hardest to keep his nerves on lockdown.

[Outgoing message to **Waliyha** , 5:15 PM] _He does not. Just send me a picture._

Before he even turns off the backlight, his phone vibrates again.

[Incoming message from **Waliyha** , 5:15 PM] _Ugh_

“Yeah, I think he is,” Zayn nods. A few seconds later, the selfie comes in, and Zayn says, “Oh, look! Here he is.”

Liam places the cup of coffee in front of Zayn and takes a seat in his office chair, then leans forward and cocks his head to the side upon looking at Zayn’s shitty flip phone. He pauses for just a moment, mouth slightly agape, and sighs, “Zayn, I have a lot of questions.”

Zayn’s brow furrows, and then Liam laughs.

“Wait, I thought you said your sister’s name was Waliyha. _Wait_ .” Liam’s hyper-expressive eyebrows do some weird arching thing, and he says, “Your sister adopted Pete - _you_ adopted Pete.”

Zayn smiles then. “Well. Maybe a little.”

“I didn’t know you were allowed to have pets in the on-campus apartments.”

“I’m not,” Zayn laughs, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, what else was I supposed to do? They were gonna put him down, ya know? And you really liked him, but you work all the time, so.” Zayn shrugs. “We’ve got time to take care of him at my house; I figured, why not?”

Liam just stares at Zayn for a second. “Wait, you could get kicked off campus because you adopted Pete for me?” The light is sterile against Liam’s plain white button-up, and Zayn almost feels like he’s being interrogated, with the disappointment obvious on Liam’s face.

Zayn’s stomach lurches. _For me_. Swallowing thickly, Zayn pulls his phone back and pockets it. “Well, that’s what friends are for, right?”

With a bright laugh, Liam claps his hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “I don’t think you know what a friend is, man.”

Sometimes Zayn thinks the same thing.

***

Liam drives Zayn home that night, and Zayn invites him in to meet Waliyha and play with Pete. When they finally get back to the apartment, Waliyha is lying on the couch, legs draped over the arm, and Pete greets them happily at the door, chew toy in mouth. His little tail wags, and Wali scrambles to sit up when she sees Liam behind Zayn.

“Hey, yeah, we have company, I’ll call you back,” she rushes, patting her leg to call Pete. He ignores her and jumps at Liam’s legs, and Waliyha sighs while Zayn hangs up his jacket by the door. “Yeah, Mom, I’ll tell him. Love you too, bye!” She clicks off the phone call while Liam kneels down to scratch Pete behind his ears and rub between his eyes. Zayn does his best to protect himself and just not even look.

“Hey, kiddo,” Zayn says, just now catching his breath. Skinny kids like him really shouldn’t have to take the stairs. He’s got no stamina on a good day, let alone when he’s trying to keep Liam from getting bored of him. “That was Mom?”

“Yeah, she says hello, who’s this?” Her words are rushed, her eyes glinting mischievously.

Liam looks up and flashes Waliyha a winning smile. “I’m Liam. I work with Zayn at the shelter. You’re his wonderful sister Waliyha, then?”

Her face lights up, and Zayn gets the distinct feeling he’s never going to hear the end of this. “I am. It’s good to meet you, Liam,” she says as he stands to his feet, scooping Pete up in his arms. “You and my brother must work together pretty often - he talks about you all the time.”

Zayn has to physically restrain himself from facepalming. As Liam smiles and opens his mouth to respond, Zayn says, “Hey, did you and Niall get the groceries like I asked?”

“Nope,” she says happily. “He took me out for Thai instead.”

“Is Niall, like, her boyfriend?” Liam asks, and Zayn thinks he might swallow his own tongue.

“No,” he and Waliyha both say, Waliyha with a lot more urgency than Zayn. Judging by the blush on her cheeks and scandalized expression, Zayn thinks Waliyha may not be the only one with some teasing to do. He’ll have to call Niall later and inform him that they may have a predicament on their hands. Zayn elaborates, “Niall is one of my friends. He’s been helping Waliyha get adjusted to life in the city.”

Liam nods, but he doesn’t seem completely convinced, either. Niall will be flattered, Zayn is certain. Nonetheless, that doesn’t solve the problem of _there’s no food in Zayn’s house_. Well. There’s like a jar of pickles and a bottle of ketchup in the fridge, but honestly, eating a pickle like a corn dog isn’t the most appealing option he’s ever had in his life.

“Well,” Zayn says with a heavy sigh, “I guess I’ll just starve to death.”

“I’m on it!” Waliyha says brightly as Zayn motions for Liam to have a seat. Somehow, Waliyha conjures her phone from thin air and turns to Liam, hardly seeming to recall that Zayn even exists anymore. “What’s your favorite kind of pizza, Liam?”

“Wali.” Zayn doesn’t even have it in him to try and fight her. Hell, it’s his mom’s money, apparently. If that’s what Waliyha wants to do with the money his mother sends her, he won’t complain about paying an extra couple of dollars to get a warm meal in his stomach rather than getting back out to do the shopping. It’s only Thursday, and Zayn is already half-dead as it is; he doesn’t think he’d be capable of functioning well enough to make it back home.

Liam looks to Zayn, Pete already sitting peacefully in his lap. His expression says, _Is this okay with you?_

Rather than give Liam an opportunity to feel like he’s imposing, Zayn addresses Waliyha. “Half Hawaiian.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Waliyha laughs brightly, already dialing the number for what is probably Domino’s. Zayn will never understand how somebody living in _New York City_ could prefer chain pizza.

Liam laughs, too. “Hawaiian is fine with me.” While Waliyha is on the phone, Zayn sits down in the armchair beside Liam, and Liam turns slightly to the right and drops the volume of his voice. “How much did Pete’s kennel cost?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

Liam gives Zayn _The Look_ , the same look his mom gives him when she knows he isn’t telling the whole truth. “If you’re going to risk your apartment, the least I can do is help you out financially. I don’t want you to let Pete be a complete burden to you.”

“He’s not a burden,” Zayn shrugs. “Look at him, he doesn’t do anything.”

Liam laughs so loudly Waliyha puts a finger to her lips to shush him. “No, seriously. At least let me buy his food and reimburse you for the kennel.”

Zayn simply shrugs again and leans back in his chair. “I took Pete for you because I wanted to. If I couldn’t afford it, I wouldn’t have done it.” That isn’t necessarily true - Zayn knows he’ll probably have to skip a few meals to afford him. But the last thing Zayn wants is for Liam to feel _indebted_ to him. Why didn’t he think this through?

Liam frowns, but his eyes shine in the dim light of the living room ceiling fan.

He’s called into work about halfway through their pizza, and he asks to use the bathroom before he leaves. When Zayn brushes his teeth that night, there are eighty-seven dollars in cash hidden in the medicine cabinet behind the toothpaste.

***

Waliyha is quick to grill Zayn about his “heart eyes” the next morning; Zayn easily silences her with a bored “I reckon Mrs. Horan does have a bit of a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Mortified, she throws her jacket at him and retreats. “Well-played, old man.”

***

On Monday, Liam gives Zayn a ride home again after work, and he helps Zayn give Pete a bath because Waliyha _certainly_ won’t. On Wednesday, Liam picks him up from work despite not having worked at the shelter that day. They stay up until two, talking philosophy and religion. Liam was raised Catholic but doesn’t practice, feels a little lost; Zayn feels close to Allah but not the common interpretation of Islam. Zayn gets the distinct feeling that Liam wants to learn more, but Zayn has spent so long _not_ talking about his religion that he doesn’t even know where to start.

On Thursday, Zayn comes home from class to find Waliyha, Liam, and Harry - _Harry_ , of all people - watching reruns of _Scooby-Doo_. Sometimes Zayn wonders if he’s the only one of them who actually works. Of course the thought summons the demon inside Liam’s phone, because Zayn has only been done with his Spaghettios and sat squished between Liam and Waliyha for fifteen minutes when the station calls and tells Liam he’s needed. For the first time since meeting him, Zayn notes that Liam seems almost haggard.

On Saturday, Liam goes to visit Pete and Waliyha while Zayn is at work. Waliyha texts Zayn a picture of Liam passed out on the sofa, captioned: _What should I do_. The text is followed by another.

[Incoming message from **Waliyha** , 4:16 PM] _Lou and I are supposed to go to the mall soon_

Zayn narrowly dodges Jimmy’s line of sight as he texts back.

[Outgoing message to **Waliyha** , 4:17 PM] _Just get the blanket out of my room and cover him up. I’ll text him so he isn’t confused._

When Zayn gets home at ten o’clock, the house is near-spotless and he’s immediately hit by the smell of beef and salsa. His comforter is the only thing out of place, folded neatly in the corner of the couch. He calls for Waliyha, but he’s startled, instead, to hear Liam’s reply.

“She’s still out with Lewis and Harry, or that’s what her note said,” Liam’s voice replies from the kitchen. Zayn shrugs off his jacket and toes off his shoes, following the sound of sizzling meat. “Hey, Zayn, do you guys ever use the dining table, or--” When Zayn rounds the corner, Liam is standing barefoot in his shitty kitchen, preparing tacos. There are at least four ingredients on the counter alone that weren’t there when Zayn left this morning. Liam must have gone to the store. “--do you guys always just eat in the living room?”

Zayn shrugs. “Until last month, there wasn’t a ‘we,’ but I’ve got no deep-seated hatred for my table, no.” Liam’s hair is still askew, probably from napping on the couch earlier, but his smile is wide. Brow furrowed, Zayn asks, “Did you _clean_?”

Liam smiles, a bit sheepishly, and looks around the kitchen as if there’s something interesting about it. “Yeah, well. I figured if I’m going to be passing out on your couch, I may as well contribute.”

It’s a joke, and Zayn knows that, but that doesn’t make it feel like less of a revelation. He leans back against the counter and studies Liam. The lines of his face seem especially hard lately, the crease between his eyebrows made permanent, and there doesn’t seem to be as much light in his eyes anymore. “You know, Liam,” he starts. “I know you’ve been staying here to visit with Pete and whatnot, but.” He pauses for a moment. “You know, if you ever just want to crash here, that’s more than fine. Especially if you’re going to white-glove the place.” He tacks on a laugh at the end, hoping it comes across as genuine. “Plus, I saw you helping Wali with her history homework, and I know fuck-all about history, so your tutoring expertise is always a bonus.”

Liam seems to physically waver for just a moment before he forces a smile. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

Zayn’s smile is fully genuine, no doubt about it. “Yeah, man, I’m sure.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we don't talk enough and we should open up before it's all too much.
> 
> Alternatively, Liam commits.

Liam comes over for a few hours every day but it feels like he’s hardly ever there. After copious amounts of bickering, Zayn convinces Liam to start sleeping in his room if he naps there while Zayn is gone. They don’t talk as much anymore, despite practically living together, and at first, Zayn is almost offended. Because Liam _does_ buy groceries, and he does take Advil to Waliyha at school when she needs it, and he does drive Zayn to work. But Zayn can’t figure out exactly what’s going on with Liam or why he even bothers coming around if he doesn’t want to be around Zayn. He hardly plays with Pete anymore, especially over the last week or so, which is just not like him at all but also tells Zayn that Liam isn’t just hanging around because Zayn adopted Pete for him.

It’s… Well, it’s a lot of things. Unsettling. Disheartening. Confusing. Above all, it’s concerning that Liam has been so distracted lately (and so unlike the Liam he thought he knew) that Zayn can’t help but worry about him. Zayn doesn’t have the emotional stability to add one more thing to worry about to the list. At this point, though, Zayn is already invested, which is _why_ he’s so concerned to begin with. It seems like a revolving door of responsibilities and concerns, what with work and school and Waliyha and Pete and the fact that he’s not supposed to have pets _or_ non-student roommates and--

Honestly, if it wasn’t for Niall, Louis, and (begrudgingly, he admits) Harry, Zayn doesn’t know if he would even still be in school by now. _Speaking of school_ , next week is finals week, and holy Jesus fuck, Zayn could snap at any given moment. He doesn’t even have time to breathe.

When Liam trudges through the front door, he looks dead on his feet.

“Hey,” Zayn says quietly, looking up from his laptop screen. He’s supposed to be writing his final paper on modern British literature, but he’s mostly been staring at the screen and questioning the purpose of life.

“Hey,” Liam replies, and he runs a hand down his face before stripping off his jacket. “I’m gonna go change.”

There’s something cold and tight in Zayn’s chest as Liam turns to head down the darkened hallway. Suddenly, he says, “Hey, Li?”

Liam stops almost immediately and turns to look at Zayn with a weary smile. “What’s up?”

Zayn catches himself chewing on his bottom lip and mentally shuns himself. “Are you alright, man?” he prompts, brow furrowed. Liam’s mouth twitches. “You’ve been a little off lately.” As soon as the words leave his lips, he wonders if it was the right thing to say. Does Zayn even really know what’s _normal_ for Liam, or is Liam as good at hiding himself as Zayn is? It wasn’t long ago that Zayn admired his authenticity at work and how naturally it came to him to work the customers in a friendly way. Zayn has spent a lot of time feeling like a fraud in comparison, but it crosses Zayn’s mind suddenly that maybe he doesn’t know Liam at all. Maybe Liam’s the one playing a part.

Liam’s responding smile is sad. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” Zayn doesn’t know if an _are you sure_ would be demeaning, and he hesitates to reply, but Liam lingers there, just a couple feet down the hall, like he doesn’t want Zayn to make it that easy for him.

So he bites the bullet.

“Will be?”

Liam stiffens slightly, and there’s an awkward beat where Zayn nearly drops eye contact. He doesn’t want to spook Liam off, but he thinks they both need answers, really, so he holds his gaze, and after a handful of seconds, Liam clears his throat. “My mom has cancer.” He says it like the words sting his throat, and he purses his lips together as if to keep them from burning him again. Zayn doesn’t know what to say, but Liam doesn’t force him to fill the silence. “That’s why I’m gone all the time. I’m on call all the time other than when I’m at the shelter, and I’ve been trying to go to her treatments with her. So I just get in a couple of naps here and there, and honestly.” He laughs then, and the darkness under his eyes seems more pronounced than ever. “I’m exhausted. But she’s taking the chemo well, and hopefully, if everything stays on track, it’ll all go back to normal.”

Zayn closes his laptop. “I’m really sorry, Li,” he says, his tone soft, and he rubs his forehead with his hand. “Jesus, that’s awful. Why didn’t you tell me? I can try and help you out.”

“Because you’re already doing so much,” Liam laughs, and this time it seems genuine, if a little ironic. “You’re twenty-one, and you’ve got your sixteen year old sister living in your spare bedroom illegally, your twenty-five year old coworker crashing on your couch, a dog you’re not even allowed to have. You work _and_ go to school full time, and you’ve always got people coming and going from this place like it’s public property, and I don’t even know _what else_ might be going on.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and gives Liam a pointed look. “Dude, I’m tired and a little overwhelmed, but - that’s your mom. That’s a lot of shit to deal with, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep that under wraps. I’m not gonna lose it because you confide in me. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but you’re my _friend_. Not my coworker. My friend.”

Liam’s smile is feeble, and to Zayn’s surprise, he actually pads over to the couch and sits down where Zayn’s laptop used to be. Rubbing his eyes, he says, “Can we just watch a movie or something? I wanna turn off my brain for a little while, ya know?”

And yeah, he does know. He knows exactly what Liam means. He just neglects to mention that Liam is a lot of the reason he needs to turn off his brain in the first place.

***

There have been quite a few times in Zayn’s life that he’s felt like shit about something he’s done. Or not done. Or anything in between. Zayn never told Liam he was agitated with him, but he did _feel_ agitated toward him. Was it agitation, really? Zayn isn’t sure, but it was something negative. And even though he’s exhausted, he makes Liam a big breakfast the next morning before heading into class, knowing that Liam won’t find it until he’s gone.

Between his first and second class, he meets up with Niall for coffee, and normally he’s not a squirmy person, but while he’s waiting for the fucker to show up, his leg won’t stop bouncing. He’s full of energy that he doesn’t know how to channel. It feels better to know that Liam isn’t being weird because of something Zayn did, and even better to know that Liam isn’t just using him for a place to crash, but. Well, that does change things a bit, and honestly, he’s a shit person for even _thinking_ about what might potentially happen between himself and Liam when Liam is going through such a hard time. And it’s not like he’s so completely obsessed with Liam that thoughts of him pervade his every waking thought, but honestly, he spends _a lot_ of his time thinking about Liam and. Wow.

He can’t remember the last time he was this jittery, or just… lacking in confidence. It’s hard to get Liam off his mind when he’s at home _and_ at work, and he knows now is not a good time, and hell, for all he knows, Liam could be completely straight. (Although probably not, because they’ve talked extensively about the LGBTQIA community, and Liam would have to be a damn good ally to be as passionate about it as he is.

But fuck, Liam’s mom has _cancer_. Even if this goes exactly how Zayn wants it to - even if Liam is into dudes, and more specifically, into Zayn - this is such a terrible time for those kinds of discussions. And it’s not going to get better any time soon, he’s sure. He wants to just go ahead and bite the bullet and ask him out, but Zayn isn’t that selfish. No, he couldn’t put that kind of pressure on Liam, not now. Not when they’re both in what looks like a downward spiral. His mom always told him that, for a relationship to work, both people have to be happy on their own. Zayn thinks fleetingly that he’s not really sure what happiness feels like.

Niall slides into the seat in front of him, and it startles Zayn that he didn’t even notice Niall walk in. He’s usually more perceptive than that. He’s got to work on his perception skills.

“Hiya!” Niall says happily, reaching across the table and grabbing Zayn’s muffin to peel off a rather large portion of the top.

“Hey,” Zayn says with a weary smile. Somehow, it’s just like Niall to show up fifteen minutes late, wearing a fucking tank top with the American flag printed all lopsided onto it, and steal his food. Niall’s a fucking pest, but he’s a delight to be around, and he’s been a godsend with Waliyha. Speaking of-- “Wali’s got a big ass crush on you.”

Niall just smiles and starts plucking away at his muffin. “I know,” he chirps.

Honestly, Niall’s just going to be a sophomore, so it’s not like he’s fucking Zayn’s age. It would probably be alright if he and Waliyha _did_ get together, but. But Niall is his friend, and he’s just really not… ready for that, if it were to be something that happened. And from the amount of time it takes Niall to properly respond, he nearly thinks it _might_ happen.

Then Niall flashes a grin at Zayn and says, “She’s cute, but she’s also, like, a kid, ya know? And I just don’t see her like that. It’s harmless, though, really, and if she tries to make a move I’ll just have to tell her I’m not interested.” It’s good to hear, really good, actually. Niall adds, “I don’t want to embarrass her or anything is the only reason I haven’t said anything yet. I think she thinks I don’t know.”

“Well, you are a little dense,” Zayn deadpans.

Niall snorts. “I’m going to get my coffee,” he explains, smacking Zayn in the back of the head on his way to the counter.

At least one thing in his life is still normal.

***

Zayn wakes up with the textbook page stuck to his cheek and Joy’s laugh loud in his ear, and he has to look around to figure out where he is. He really doesn’t even remember falling asleep, but undoubtedly, he’s fallen asleep in the break room.

“Hey, hey!” he gripes, peeling his face off of the page when he notices Liam taking pictures of him with his phone on the other side of the doorway. Flapping his hand around, he says, “Give it a rest. What time is it? Am I late?”

“Just a little,” Joy laughs, using her fingers to sign that he’s overslept just a _touch_. Which means he’s at least fifteen minutes late.

“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing the sides of his face to wake himself up better. He’s on day three of finals week, and honestly? He’d be better off dead. “You know. Exams.”

When he sits up properly, his back pops, and Joy winces. “I was just gonna let you know I’m out of here, but--” She pulls a face. “--you should probably have Liam look at that.” She means his back, Zayn knows, and he blushes.

“Are you gonna leave or not?”

Liam snorts and tells Joy, “I’ll send them to you in case you ever need them for blackmail.”

“Who said anything about blackmail?” she laughs, putting her hands up. “It’s going right in the printer and straight to the announcement board.”

Zayn rolls  his eyes, and she blows him a kiss before heading out, and then it’s just Zayn and Liam, which is usually how it is on Liam’s volunteer days. Amanda always says Liam and Zayn make a good team. Zayn thinks the same thing, even if he only admits it in his head.

Liam only pesters Zayn a little before they head into the back to give Oscar, Snowball, Mandy, and Spot a bath and make sure the cats are fed.

Zayn operates in a bit of a haze until Liam splashes bath water all over Zayn’s lap, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Mandy spooks easily, Zayn would have Liam soaked head to toe already. He glares daggers at Liam, but he smiles while he tries to think of ways to get Liam back.

His mind strays back to finals finals finals, and he reminds himself over and over again not to forget his textbook and notes in the breakroom. He has a final tomorrow and _three_ the day after that. He’s gonna die. He’s gonna _literally die_ . He can already feel his blood pressure rising. He doesn’t have a specific concern, isn’t afraid he’ll forget one specific subject or one answer or one class as a whole. He just feels a sense of impending doom about _all of it_ . He thinks he’s mostly scared because he’s been spending a lot of the semester prioritizing other things and now the anxiety of it all is coming at full-force. If finals would just _be_ over already, he wouldn’t be living like this.

If he had been focusing a little more on literature and a little less about cute EMTs and puppies, he wouldn’t be living like this either.

“You okay?” Liam asks, and Zayn smiles feebly.

“Just a little nervous about finals.” It feels weird to tell someone what’s wrong with him instead of just saying he’s fine. The only person he really _talks_ to about that stuff is Louis, and Louis hardly even counts as a person. He’s known Louis since they were like eight or something. But Liam. Liam is a person for sure. He focuses on the task at hand instead. “Let’s get you dried off,” he tells Mandy the Chihuahua as if she even knows what that means. They have to be really careful with Mandy because her previous owners used to beat her and she’s shy around people she knows well, even worse with actual strangers. Zayn thinks she doesn’t quite trust Liam yet, so he always tries to take the lead by just a touch to keep her from getting scared.

Liam’s hand brushes against his while Zayn wraps the towel around Mandy and scrubs her down. For once in his life, Zayn actually doesn’t get distracted by the simplest of Liam’s movements. He only realizes it happened when he’s already putting Mandy back into her kennel. God, Zayn wishes they had more time to just _play_ with the animals. That’s the one thing about having Pete - Zayn can see how much happier he is to have room to roam and people to play with when he feels like it, although most of the time he just loafs around anyway.

While they pack up their things for the night, Zayn notices that Liam seems to always be just slightly closer to him than usual, and Liam is all about respecting personal space, so Zayn wonders briefly if he’s having a stroke. It turns out that he isn’t, so he lets it go, until they get out into the parking lot. Zayn sets the alarm on the way out, and when he goes to fix the padlock around the handles of both the doors, he finds that, for some reason, Liam has reached out as if he’s going to get it himself. Which is odd, considering Liam doesn’t have a key to the padlock and doesn’t know the security code or anything.

Zayn laughs lightly. “I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be spazzing out today,” he says, turning around, and when he does, Liam’s hands cup his face, steady and warm, and it’s so sudden that Zayn really doesn’t know how to process what’s going on. Zayn’s eyes flick up to Liam’s, and he doesn’t know what it is that he sees there really, but Liam hesitates slightly before leaning in and catching Zayn’s lips with his own.

Normally, Zayn would be interested in figuring out how to make the most out of the opportunity, but he’s just. Well, he’s really surprised, and it takes him a bit longer than he’s proud of to kiss back, but when he _does_ \--

Holy shit? Liam? Liam’s mouth? On his? All warm and like right _there_ and it’s almost chilly outside otherwise and the sky’s an inky black and Liam smells like cigarettes and dog shampoo, but that’s okay, like. More than okay.

Zayn fists Liam’s shirt with his hand and pulls him just that extra bit closer, and then Liam pulls away with a satisfied grin.

Zayn doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, but he smiles breathlessly, and Liam seems to take that to be a good thing.

If Zayn thought he was already having a hard time concentrating while preparing for finals, he’s certainly going to fail now.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Waliyha is a demon from Hell sent to ruin Zayn's life and Liam has an announcement

Zayn doesn’t know anything, really, and that seems to be about the mood for the day. He’s nearly positive he’s failed his singular final of the day, and the rest of the time he was supposed to be in class, he’s been studying studying _studying_ , and pointedly not thinking about Liam.

Okay, well, maybe a little bit. But seriously, how could anyone blame him? Above the fact that _Liam kissed him_ , which already makes him feel like - well, like a sixteen year old girl, no offense to his sister intended - he just can’t figure out why. Liam hasn’t really shown any signs of being interested in him until yesterday, and then suddenly, out of nowhere, Liam kisses him? He thinks the fuck not. There has to have been a reason, after all. Liam doesn’t make choices on a whim like that.

See, this is why he failed his final.

Really, though, he tries to think about what might have happened to make Liam want to do that. Was Liam interested before and just got very good at hiding it? Did he suddenly realize he was interested that day, like a revelation from Allah? Did Liam kiss him because he’s experimenting with his sexuality and wanted to see what it was like?

The whole thing reeks of meddling, which is a fucking shame because the kiss itself was one of the purest experiences Zayn has ever had. He can still feel Liam’s lips on his if he thinks long and hard enough.

Honestly, his GPA is fucked. There’s no way he’ll be able to concentrate in exams tomorrow.

***

“Wali!” Zayn shouts as soon as he opens the door to the apartment.

He hears a door slam down the hall, and Zayn knows he’s got her at this point. He doesn’t even _have_ to interrogate her to know.

“Waliyha,” he presses, not even bothering to take off his shoes before trudging down the hall to the bathroom. “I know what you did.”

“I didn’t do shit!” she laughs from the other side of the door. “Blame Louis.”

“ _Louis_ ,” he huffs, scandalized. Louis would never. “It’s not polite to gossip, Wali.”

“It’s also not polite to want to do the nasty with your coworker but here we are.”

“That’s alright, two can play that game!” Zayn says, pulling out his phone and putting it up to his ear. He waits for a beat, as if letting the phone ring. “Ni? Yeah, it’s Zayn. Did you know--”

“I already know you blabbed!” Waliyha cackles through the wood between them. “Niall told Louis, and Louis told Harry, and Harry told Liam, and Liam told me.”

Zayn thinks his head might explode. He’s got to get some of these people out of his life immediately. Harry’s the first to go. Then maybe Niall. It’s just getting _too_ complicated.

“I also told Liam you have a giant black double-sided dildo in your drawer, and a gallon bucket of lube in the closet. Heads up.” She sounds like she must be near crying from laughing so hard, honestly, and Zayn has never facepalmed so hard in his life.

“You’re a demon, Waliyha, an actual fucking demon.”

Zayn hears the front door open, and without thinking about who it could potentially be, Zayn yells, “I do _not_ have a giant double-sided dildo in my room!”

Luckily, it’s Liam who materializes at the end of the hall, and when he does, he’s already laughing his ass off.

***

They agree not to say a damn thing about feelings or anything related to them until Zayn’s finals are over and he has a chance to breathe, but that doesn’t stop Waliyha from pestering. It’s awesome that Waliyha’s confidence has jumped enough that she feels she can pick on Zayn like this. It’s also mildly infuriating, but only because he’s so fucking terrified. And well, he has reason to be, right?

Liam and Zayn are in two completely different places in life. Zayn has never seen Liam’s apartment. Zayn is raising a teenager _and_ going to school _and_ working full time, and Liam works _all the time_. They have a dog together(?). If things don’t work out, what will they do? Is it even worth the risk, or should Zayn just pretend his feelings don’t exist? What if Liam isn’t as serious about this as Zayn is? Is he going to get into the middle of this Conversation with Liam only for Liam to say he wants to “talk to” Zayn? Would Zayn’s mom approve of him dating someone four years older than him? Is Liam out?

Waliyha couldn’t have possibly picked a worse time for this to all come crashing down on him. He feels like he’s breaking apart at the seams, and nothing actually _bad_ has even happened yet.

Zayn is going to have to be more careful about what he lets Waliyha see about him. Sometimes he forgets how unpredictable she is. (This would probably never have happened if he hadn’t told Niall she had a crush on him, but he refuses to accept fault for the state of his life at the moment, it’s just too much.)

When Liam comes home that night, he, Waliyha, and Zayn eat at the dinner table. After Waliyha clears her plate and goes into the kitchen for seconds - there’s not enough room on the table for anything but their plates and cups - Liam clears his throat.

“So, uh. I put in for a bank job,” he says quietly, using his fork to skewer a rotini noodle.

Zayn raises his eyebrows, looking at the set of Liam’s shoulders. He said it like it was no big deal, but judging by his posture, he’s nervous. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaves it at that and takes a bit of his cheddar broccoli casserole.

“Why?”

As Waliyha enters the room, Liam admits, “I’m tired, Z. I work all the time, and I want to be able to do things I like. And more importantly, I want to be able to spend time with my mom. I hate my job.” He laughs then, and Zayn sees a hint of a sparkle in his eye as they make eye contact fleetingly.

Zayn snorts. “Sounds like a good reason to quit, then. What I meant was, why a bank job?”

Liam shrugs. “They’re hiring, and I can count. Besides, I’m old now. It’s too late for me to go back and get a specialized job. I figure working at the bank should be easy to pick up, and if I do well, I might be able to get a promotion soon.”

Waliyha, it turns out, reads Zayn’s mind. “That sounds a little boring for you, Liam.”

With a laugh, Liam says, “I’ve had enough action to last a lifetime.”

Zayn ignores the opportunity to make an off-color joke and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Right, but I think you could do better than _the bank_. I’m certain you’ve got no passion for counting money. Did you go to school at all before you started at the station?”

Liam’s mouth turns down at the corner. “No, actually. I took HOSA classes in high school and got certified in CPR, and that was all they asked of me.”

Zayn allows himself a moment to shudder. He’d _hoped_ anyone who might be picking him up when he’s literally on his deathbed might have a bit more education than that, but hell, as long as they’re able to do the job, he supposes. “Did you ever consider going?”

There’s a pause, and the only real noise is the sound of Waliyha’s fork clacking against the plate.

“I did consider it, yeah,” Liam says, “but I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and I was afraid to go in undecided and get a bunch of student debt for classes I ended up not needing.”

“And you still don’t know what you want to do?”

“Not really.”

Waliyha perks up suddenly, brown eyes alight with excitement. “Liam, in class last week they made us take this aptitude test to see what kinds of careers we’d be good at and what we would like. You should do something like that.”

Zayn nods slowly, glancing at the roll on his plate. It’s got some cheddar sauce on it. Maybe Pete would like that part. “I think that would be a great idea,” he agrees.

Liam cocks his head to the side. “Well. If you think you can find the test, that would be cool, I guess.” Zayn does Liam a favor and pretends he doesn’t hear the excitement in his voice. It turns out that Liam isn’t even the one who’s the most excited.

Waliyha shoves her chair back and shouts “BRB” as if that’s even something that makes sense, and when Liam looks at Zayn, all he does is raise his eyebrows and shrug.

“She likes to be helpful when it suits her.”

Liam grins back at him, but true to their agreement, he doesn’t say anything. Zayn knows that conversation is coming soon.

***

Zayn doesn’t fail his finals, but he does crash and burn when he and Liam talk the next day. Neither of them know where to start, but Zayn does what he knows best, which is arguing logic, which Liam nearly takes the wrong way. They both know it’s not a good time for either of them, that they’ve got a lot on their plates separately, and if not for Waliyha coming out of her bedroom to “administer” Liam another aptitude test, they might have ended up bickering. When Liam’s done taking the test and they’ve both had a moment to sit back and think about things, Zayn makes his move.

“Listen,” he says quietly, leaning forward and propping his elbows up on his knees. “I _want_ this. I don’t want for us to just be ‘a thing’. I want to be your, like. Your boyfriend, you know? I’m not here to fuck around, so that’s why I’m taking this so seriously. It’s not because I’m trying to talk you out of being with me. I just want to make sure we’re taking precautions and that we’re both aware that, as much stress as we’re both under, this might not turn out like we hope.”

Liam’s a little bit more receptive after that, laughing and shaking his head. “God, I’m sorry. You’re the one acting like a proper adult here, and I’m just worried about my feelings. I was just a little concerned because, like. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now, but I was afraid I’d scare you off, so I went, like, waaaaaay out of my comfort zone to initiate, ya know?”

“Were a bit creepy,” Zayn deadpans, “suddenly hanging around in my personal space and shit.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Liam laughs. “It’s not like you weren’t leering at me every fucking chance you got.”

Zayn blanches. “I beg your pardon, that’s not _leering_ , that’s _admiring._ ”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Whatever makes you happy, Z.”

“Well, that would be Pete,” Zayn answers as the puppy shuffles over to his feet. He leans down and scratches Pete behind his ear in the spot he likes, and he practically flops onto the floor in response. Zayn can’t help but smile.

There’s a brief silence before Liam says, “So, about that gallon of lube--”

Zayn freezes him with a look, and then after a moment, he glances down the hallway. “Maybe later,” he whispers. “I’d appreciate it if you tried not to scar my sister, though, that’s all I ask.”

Liam’s cheeks and neck turn red. “I was just kidding, Zayn.”

Now it’s time for Zayn’s cheeks to heat up. He buries his face in his hands and stares at the floor through his fingers.

Someone bursts through the front door, and when Zayn looks up, it’s Louis, with three massive bags of Chinese takeout. He studies Liam and Zayn and cocks his head to the side. “Who died in here, Jesus Christ,” he mutters, narrowing his blue eyes at Zayn as if it’s somehow Zayn’s fault.  Which, it is, but there’s no way for Louis to know that.

“My dignity,” Zayn huffs so quietly only Liam hears him, and Liam bursts into laughter, leaving Louis to wonder what just happened.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Waliyha helps Liam, Zayn questions his mental health, Harry isn't that bad, Louis makes a good investment, and Niall is a liar

“Pete,” Zayn laughs, “why are you like this?”

Pete looks up at him with needy brown eyes that pierce Zayn’s very soul, and Zayn sighs heavily before picking him up and putting him in his lap.

Liam doesn’t even look up from his paperwork, but he smiles nonetheless. Zayn smiles, too, on the inside, but he’s got a reputation to uphold. He pets Pete quietly, and really, that’s all Pete ever wants: physical closeness. He doesn’t need anybody’s constant attention, and his favorite thing to do is sleep. Maybe Pete and Zayn have more in common than he initially thought.

Liam’s got the end of a pen in his mouth, gnawing on it quietly while he thinks, and Zayn begins the countdown. _Four, three, two, one…_

“Hey, Zayn?” Liam asks, like clockwork, glancing up to his right.

“Hey, Liam,” Zayn replies in the same tone, and Liam shoots him a pointed look.

After a pause full of nonverbal scolding, Liam says, “‘Which of the following best describes your ability to clearly explain complex matters verbally?’” Then he goes on to list the options.

“‘I am always able to describe complex matters verbally.’” Zayn replies.

There’s another slight pause. “Are you sure? I don’t just sound like I’m talking out of my ass?”

“No,” Zayn laughs, “you can be pretty articulate when you try. Unless you’re texting, then I’m better off just calling you instead, but--”

“Hey,” Liam frowns.

Zayn laughs loudly and shakes his head. “Yes, Liam, you can describe complex matters.” They’ve been doing this for weeks now, honestly, and Zayn usually just sits in wait for Liam to ask him a question about himself and then ask him if he’s _sure_. As if Zayn is anything but sure when it comes to Liam.

Liam bubbles in the answer, and honestly, the real question here is why they’re doing this on paper instead of online. Zayn hates technology, but it’s better than waiting a fucking week to figure out what Liam should do with his life.

After that test, Liam picks one more from the list Waliyha emailed him, and with this one, the results are immediate. Zayn always makes Liam write down every option it gives him, even if it sounds like something he wouldn’t enjoy. Zayn keeps a tally on a sticky note he keeps in his wallet for the ones that reoccur. If this goes the right way and Liam does decide to go to college, he could probably be in by spring semester. Zayn hasn’t asked about Liam’s test scores in school, but horrible texting grammar aside, Liam seems pretty straight-laced, like the type of person who would have valued good grades.

Five minutes later, Liam writes down his results, and Zayn takes note of them on his sticky note, and he bites back a smile. Liam is too perceptive, and Zayn doesn’t want him to know just what he’s thinking yet, because Liam seems scared of going back to school, but Zayn thinks he already knows where Liam is headed.

After that, Liam gets ready to go visit his mom, and while he’s changing out of his sweats and into jeans in Zayn’s room, Zayn flops back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Being on break between semesters always makes Zayn feel a bit weird, like he’s not contributing anything. Maybe Zayn thrives in the chaos. Maybe that’s why he keeps inviting people and animals into his home.

“D’you wanna come with me?” Liam asks nonchalantly, and Zayn rolls his head to the side to see Liam adjusting his belt.

“To see your mom?”

“Yeah,” Liam shrugs. “I think she’d like you, and if you spend one more day pouting because your life is boring I might tear my hair out.”

It’s creepy, honestly, how in sync with one another they can be now that there are no secrets between them. It’s like telepathy or something. Zayn pretends to hate it, but really, he wonders if it’s a good omen. It would have to be, wouldn’t it?

Zayn schools his expression into something blase, and he says, “Yeah, that’d be cool, I guess.”

The thing is, with Liam, Zayn can do all kind of mundane things, but it never feels _boring_. He doesn’t think he could ever be bored of Liam.

***

It might be a bit out of order, but when have they ever done things the way they’re supposed to be done? Two weeks into the new semester, Zayn, Waliyha, and Pete move into Liam’s apartment. It feels like a risk, especially with Waliyha involved, but it doesn’t scare him like it probably should. If anything, it’s almost… calming. Well, the moving process was _not_ calming. With Niall, Louis, and his lanky ass boyfriend - honestly, when did Harry grow on Zayn so much? - helping out, every nook and cranny of the apartment is jam-packed. If there isn’t a box somewhere, there’s a human. Or, even worse, there’s Pete, who’s probably sleeping and is too cute to wake. Zayn admires his dedication to doing nothing at all and hopes one day he’ll be on that same plane of existence. Not in this decade, but at some point, definitely.

Liam lets him paint the walls of any room he likes, and Waliyha insists that Louis bring his younger sister Fizzy so she can have a “female” opinion on what looks good. As if Zayn doesn’t have a knack for aesthetics. It’s not like he’s an artist or anything, considering Waliyha's bedroom used to be his _studio_. Whatever. He’s not offended.

Not at all.

***

By October, Zayn feels the pressure on his shoulders of what to say to Liam to get him to listen. He thinks he finds it one night by way of Joy.

“Jimmy just turned in his notice,” she tells Zayn. “He didn’t even give a full two weeks. I don’t know what we’re going to do. I thought business would have slowed down by now, but it hasn’t, and now we’re going to be one man down until we can hire someone else on.”

Zayn doesn’t comment, but he stores that piece of information in his brain until he can get home that night. When he gets there, the house is empty, Waliyha having gone to stay the night with a friend - yes, a _friend_ ; Zayn couldn’t possibly be prouder - and Liam at work.

It was one thing for Liam to pop in at all hours of the night when they weren’t together, but now that they share the same bed, Zayn is always acutely aware of Liam’s absence. He knows it’s part of Liam’s job, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. It just means he shouldn’t start a fight about it. So he doesn’t.

Living at Liam’s, however, doesn’t stop the rest of the boys from coming and going as they please, and that’s honestly a blessing. Zayn would probably be a lot more lonely without them, even if they are massive pests.

Surprisingly, Harry tends to drop by even without Louis, just to hang out and talk about the universe with Zayn. Even more surprisingly, Zayn doesn’t hate it. Or Harry. He needs to cut his hair, sure, but Harry’s really an alright guy. At first glance, they seem like they should be polar opposites, but they have an odd amount of things in common. They’re both outcasts, first of all - Harry’s a gay atheist who comes from a small, devoutly Christian town in Minnesota, and Zayn is a Muslim kid from an equally small town full of white Islamophobes. They talk about everything from prejudice and equality to evolution to music to art. He remembers wondering how Louis could be interested in someone so stereotypically _white_ \- like, avocado-eating, Coldplay fan white - but when he takes the time to really get to know Harry, he’s not like that at all. Well, of course he’s _like that_ , but he’s not boring or pretentious the way Zayn expected him to be. Zayn has a feeling that Harry and Liam would be great friends if they got to spend more time together.

Liam climbs into bed beside Zayn around three AM, and when he realizes Zayn is still awake, he whispers, “Can we put Pete in the bed?”

“No.”

“It’s my bed.”

“It’s my personal space.”

There’s a pause, and then abruptly, Liam pushes Zayn across the bed so he’s just dangling off the side, and Zayn whips around to look at him, aghast.

“Leeyum,” he groans as his boyfriend picks a small lump named Pete off the floor and puts him between the two of them. Pete snuggles into the crook of Liam’s neck, and Zayn groans. “If you let him sleep in the bed with us he’ll think he can always sleep with us.”

“I don’t see why he can’t,” Liam defends.

Zayn arches an eyebrow at him. “You don’t think it might _logistically_ complicate things?”

Liam’s eyes go wide as he catches onto what it is that Zayn is really saying. “Well--”

“It’s too late,” Zayn huffs in faux annoyance.

“Zaaaaayn,” Liam groans, and Zayn rolls over to look at Liam properly.

“You know what I think?” he asks. After a pause, he says, “I think you should come onboard at the shelter full-time until you get your career situation under control.”

Liam raises his eyebrows. “What makes you think they would want me?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “First off, you’re already trained there for the most part. Secondly, Jimmy put in a one-week notice today and they need more hands on deck. And they really like you. And _I_ really like you. It would just be temporary, until you get all your things sorted out, but it would be a lot more stable, and you’d be able to schedule your work around Karen’s chemo, ya know.” Zayn knows that’ll be the selling point for him. After seeing how close Liam and his mom were when he met her the first time, Zayn can’t imagine Liam passing up an opportunity like that. Zayn can’t imagine passing it up if he was in Liam’s position, not at all.

Liam whispers, “It’s three AM. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

When Zayn wakes up the next morning, he finds Liam in the kitchen already on the phone with Amanda to discuss scheduling and getting him properly hired on. Zayn stands in the doorway and smiles, and Pete comes to sit on his feet.

“Fuck,” he mutters, trying to wiggle his toes to get Pete to move, and Liam valiantly fights a laugh. Zayn doesn’t know how his life turned out like this, really, but he’s not complaining. Not in the least.

***

Zayn persuades Liam to bite the bullet and take general education courses during his first week actually _working_ at the shelter. Liam nearly has a coronary while Zayn is trying to help him fill out the FAFSA, and it’s even worse when they start submitting his applications to colleges. Liam has an especially hard time talking himself up, says it makes him feel like he’s gloating or even lying.

If Zayn is the one who writes Liam’s personal essay, that’s nobody’s business but theirs, honestly.

Before Zayn knows it, it’s December and he’s helping Liam set up his school schedule. It seems like the time has just flown by, and really, he supposes it has. He only met Liam six months ago, and now here they are. Sometimes Zayn wonders if he has a death wish or is just stupid, but he’s happy and so is Waliyha, and he supposes that’s what counts.

The day before Liam and Zayn start school, Waliyha brings a boy home and announces that he’s her boyfriend. His name is Todd, and he has blond hair and blue eyes and, somehow, an Irish accent. Zayn doesn’t bother psychoanalyzing the fact that Todd is literally a carbon copy of Niall, but Todd seems to genuinely like Waliyha. Which is a fucking shame, because eventually Waliyha is going to break up with him or call him Niall or something stupid. It’s none of his business, really, but it is somewhat tragic.

Todd is gone from their lives by February, almost like he was never introduced.

In March, Louis proposes to Harry and asks Zayn to be his best man. Six months ago, Zayn would have asked Louis if he was crazy, but they seem happy, and well - they seem oddly well-suited for one another. Zayn couldn't be happier for them honestly, even if he hides it behind a cigarette and a clap on the shoulder.

In April, Zayn introduces his parents, Safaa, Doniya, and his cousins Sasha and Jawaad to Liam. Liam trips over his words as he shakes their hands and tells them how nice it is to finally meet them, and Zayn can’t help but smile. The day goes off without a hitch, and Sasha makes sure to tell Zayn in no uncertain terms that if he doesn’t bring Liam back soon he’ll have to face her wrath.

When Louis and Harry exchange vows in July, Zayn cries a little bit, and Liam doesn’t let him hear the end of it for weeks, calling him a big softie. By December, they’re talking about getting married themselves, and sometimes it takes Zayn a second to catch his breath when he thinks back on all the anxiety and confusion when they first got together.

After Zayn graduates with his master’s, Liam proposes, and Louis rolls his eyes and says, “What took you so long?” That seems to be the common consensus.

Zayn does say yes, by the way. More than once. Actually so many times that it must be annoying. But Liam doesn’t seem to mind.

Zayn coughs up his champagne when he sees Niall dancing with Waliyha at the wedding and quickly distracts himself by talking to Karen, whose cancer has been in remission for three years now. She looks happy, if a bit misty-eyed, and Zayn doesn’t blame her - he cried, too. Fucking weddings, always making him draw attention to himself by _crying_ , of all the things. This time, though, he should have expected it. He was the one getting married, after all.

He still looks at Liam with the same light in his eyes and the same hidden smile he did when they first met. He hopes he never loses it.

By the time Liam graduates with his teaching license and history doctorate, they own a house in Bronxville, and they’ve got six more dogs - honestly, Zayn must be insane at this point. They have a big, fenced-in backyard, and there are no dogs allowed in the bed. Zayn is a tenured English professor at Queens College, and everything is… Well, it’s relaxed, for the most part, aside from occasional traumas, like Niall accidentally sending him an NSFW text meant for his _sister_ , of all people, and a power pole falling down and crushing Liam's car. Secretly, Zayn lives for the drama, thinks it keeps him on his toes. They're almost normal.

Almost.


End file.
